


Don't Ask

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:06:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You need to fuck him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Ask

**Author's Note:**

> For [Princessofg](http://princessofg.livejournal.com).
> 
> Beta by the [Princessofg](http://princessofg.livejournal.com), though it seems unfair to make her beta her own story, and by the [Empress Wu](http://empress_wu.livejournal.com)

"Fuck you!"

"Rodney, dammit, just calm down --"

"Calm down? No, you calm down, you just listen to yourself for a change and calm down --"

"I am not the one shouting!" Sheppard bellowed. Everyone in the mess froze and then almost as suddenly began moving again, as if a vid had stopped and started. The two men stared at each other, then Sheppard grabbed McKay's elbow and hustled him into the corridor.

"Huh," Ronon said, staring after them.

"You mustn't mind them, Ronon," Elizabeth told him as she passed him a basket of bread. "Their working relationship is challenging, but I must admit successful."

"Ach, if only they'd keep their voices down. Some days we can hear them in the infirmary," Carson said, shaking his head. "I have to remind them not to argue in that particular hallway. I do wonder what they're fighting about this time."

Elizabeth shrugged, looking sad. "I've no idea. We need scorecards to keep track."

"Are they arguing more these days? Or am I imagining that?" Carson asked her.

"No offense, Dr. Weir, but it's not setting a good example for the men," Major Lorne said, leaning forward to look around Ronon, who leaned back. "I haven't said anything to the colonel, but --"

"I will," Ronon said abruptly. "Seen it before." He nodded and took another bite of the meat they called _fried chicken_. He liked the flavor, and the fact that everybody used their hands to eat it.

"No, I should," Elizabeth said. "You're right, Major. It isn't a good example for any of us." She sighed and wiped her mouth with her napkin. "It's just undeniable that they are better together than apart."

"Course," Ronon said with his mouth full before he remembered Sheppard's admonishment to swallow before speaking. He gulped everything down and took a big swig of water. "I'll tell McKay to fuck him three days straight; never fails."

Lorne knocked over his water and Elizabeth began to choke, while Carson's eyes bugged. All three began to talk at once; Ronon turned his head from side to side trying to figure out what they were saying.

Lorne said, "Jesus, Ronon, no, I mean, even if that's the case -- and I'm not asking, you understand; whatever happens in Atlantis _stays_ in Atlantis -- but even if, I mean, you just can't _say_ \--"

Elizabeth said, "Ronon, we've discussed appropriate language before --"

Carson said, "Are they really? I wondered, but I never saw --"

Ronon said, "Sorry." He shrugged. "What happened in the barracks on Sateda."

The three others look at each other and simultaneously took a deep breath. Lorne said quietly, "Ronon, in the military from Earth --"

"From the United States," Carson corrected him.

"Yeah, that's right, from one of the countries on Earth, from where Colonel Sheppard and I are from, two men can't -- I mean, they can and they do, but we're not supposed to. It's called 'Don't ask, don't tell,' and it's really, really important not to give people the idea that the colonel and Dr. McKay are more than, uh, than colleagues."

"Colleagues," Ronon said, and looked at Elizabeth.

"Teammates," she clarified. "And in fact, it's unlikely that anything negative would be the result of knowledge about their relationship. If they have that kind of relationship. I mean, we're an awfully long way from Earth and the United States, and they're both valuable members of the Atlantis expedition."

"Not to mention that Rodney is Canadian," Carson added. "No such law in Canada."

"Yeah," Lorne said. "I read where two guys in the Canadian Air Force got married to each other last year."

"Aw," Carson said, smiling. "That is happy news."

"Well, it seems a little unusual, but I got no problem. And if the colonel and Dr. McKay are, uh, if that's the issue, then, yeah, somebody needs to speak to them." Lorne sighed.

"We wouldn't dream of asking them for confirmation," Elizabeth said, and Lorne nodded. "Nor should you tell anyone, Ronon. I honestly don't think there would be any repercussions, but it's better to err on the side of caution."

"Err," Ronon said, and all three nodded.

Elizabeth said, "Major, I'll speak to Rodney about his behavior. Perhaps it would be better for you to speak to Colonel Sheppard."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll tell him what Ronon said; that'll do it."

They laughed, but not unkindly, Ronon thought, watching them. Then Elizabeth changed the subject to preparing for an upcoming Earth holiday. Ronon finished his meal and left.

He didn't really have anywhere to be. After Elizabeth had okayed him becoming a member of Sheppard's team, she had also arranged for him to take lessons in how things were done in Atlantis: weekly meetings with Carson to learn more field medicine; with Teyla, to learn the history of the Athosians and her experience as a trader; with Zelenka, to learn how to use the little laptops no new Atlantian went anywhere without; with Kate, to talk about his life before Sheppard and Carson had saved him. He wasn't very good at the talking part, but she was pretty to look at and didn't seem to mind long silences.

Sheppard had arranged for him to train with the Marines each morning, and with Teyla three times a week. He'd met some guys who showed him the Earth equivalent of vids, called DVDs; some were supposed to be funny, but he had a hard time understanding the humor. Others were about sex; he liked those best. No cultural references got in the way.

But right now, after lunch, he didn't have anything scheduled. He could go back to his quarters, but after a moment's thought, decided to track down Sheppard and McKay, see if he could figure out what was going on.

What a weird fucking place Earth must be. Zelenka was more help; he came from a planet called Czech and liked to laugh at the Americans and Canadians. He was generous with his time with Ronon, teaching him how to access the Ancient database and to use the translation program. "Good, good," he'd say, patting Ronon on the back approvingly. "Now, the little miserable _potrhly clovek_ will not be able to fool you, eh?"

"Potr --?" Ronon asked.

"Rodney, of course. No, he is good man, hard working, but oh, such an ego." Dr. Zelenka shook his head. "Do not let him bully you, Ronon. Stand up to him." Looking up at his height, Zelenka smiled. "You should have no trouble intimidating him. Don't smile, and raise that eyebrow, yes, like that."

Ronon had soon discovered that Zelenka was right; his height and silence were effective tools when he had to work with McKay.

But where were McKay and Sheppard? They were scheduled to go off-world the next day; they shouldn't be arguing during that. It was one thing for McKay to complain and whine. Ronon was used to that and it wouldn't feel right if his behavior changed. But his whining was good natured, not the snapping he'd overheard in the mess hall.

He went first to Sheppard's quarters, but he wasn't there. He went next to McKay's, but they were not there, either. Then to the big lab where McKay usually worked; even as he approached, he could hear the continual burble of conversation and arguments roll into the hallway. He looked in the door and saw McKay slouched over his laptop, his mouth pulled down. The other scientists were shooting him glances out of the corners of their eyes and keeping to workstations apart from him.

Ronon watched for a while. Zelenka caught his eye and smiled, then glanced at McKay. Ronon nodded and walked to him. "McKay," he said. McKay jumped so hard he nearly fell off the stool, so Ronon grabbed his arm until he stabilized. "You look like shit," he said.

"Yes, well, thank you, after frightening me into a myocardial infarction, I'm not surprised."

"Sheppard."

McKay sighed heavily and finally looked up at Ronon. "What about Sheppard?"

"You need to fuck him."

"What?" His eyes widened and he looked wildly around the lab. "Jesus, you can't say that. What on -- no, don't answer that." He waved his hands as he said, "Look, get out of here. You can't say that to me, you can't say that to _anybody_ , no matter what bizarre cultural norms you're measuring him with, you just, you have to know, didn't Major Lorne talk to you?"

"He said I couldn't ask."

"That's _Sheppard_ you can't ask. Me, you can ask, and the answer is _no_. For God's sake." He stared at Ronon. "Go, go. And don't say that word again."

Ronon didn't smile as he said loudly, "What word? Fuck?"

"Go!"

He left, catching Zelenka's eye, who smiled but shook his head at Ronon. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he knew he needed to find Sheppard. He looked first in the training room, and then in the armory. Finally he tried the little room that Sheppard called his office. He was there, staring glumly into the laptop, poking at it with his forefingers.

"Sheppard." He looked up and smiled, tightly. "Fix what's wrong with you and McKay."

"Oh, hey, Ronon, look, it's really none of your business --"

"It is. Fix it or I will."

"You have any suggestions?"

"Fuck and get it over with."

Sheppard's face turned a mottled red color, and his mouth fell open; then he said, "Look, Ronon, we've talked about the differences between your military and mine --"

"I know. Lorne told me I shouldn't say anything."

"Lorne?" he said faintly.

"Yeah. Told him you guys should fuck, but he said he couldn't know about that."

After a moment, Sheppard said, "Oh," and then vigorously scratched his head. "Ah, sit down. First, Rodney and I don't have that kind of relationship." He looked sharply at Ronon, who just stared back. "In fact, I can't believe I'm using the word 'relationship' about Rodney McKay. We just don't, okay?

"Second, even if we did, which we don't, you can't say things like that. I could get in trouble, or somebody might try to hurt Rodney --"

"Weir says no. She says you're too far from Earth and too valuable to Atlantis."

"Weir? You talked to Weir, too? Who else?"

"Carson."

"Oh. Oh." He scrubbed at his head again. "I need some Tylenol. And you, you need to shut up. You're worse than Rodney."

Ronon raised his eyebrows at that; no one was worse than Rodney McKay. "Sheppard, I've seen this before. You two need to fuck. Sometimes that'll do it; sometimes you need to pledge. But you're tearing things apart this way. Just stop dicking around and do it."

"Oh my God," he moaned. "Did you say all that to Lorne and Weir?"

"And Carson."

"Oh my God," he repeated. "No. Just, don't try to help. It's not like that. This is just -- Rodney and I aren't -- it's not like that. You should know that by now."

Ronon stood up to lean on Sheppard's desk and look him in the eye. "That's bullshit and you know it. Something's changed. I don't know what, but it's fucking things up. Make the next move, Sheppard. Fix this." He walked out, ignoring whatever Sheppard was calling after him.

He decided to find a clutch of Marines and beat the shit out of them. That would cheer him up.

The next day, Major Lorne was waiting for Ronon when he left Kate's office. "Uh, hey," he said. Ronon nodded. "Listen, the colonel asked me to talk to you. Said you were a bit unclear on, uh. On things." Ronon kept walking; he was always hungry after meeting with Kate, and in a sour mood. She wanted him to talk about his family, but he couldn't see the point. Lorne kept up, and kept talking. "See, you really need not to say things about McKay and Sheppard being, uh, together. They're not, first, but also it's just not done."

"Not my problem," he said. Before he could turn into the mess hall, Lorne grabbed him.

"Look, the colonel asked, and it's important. Whatever you think is going on with them, keep it to yourself. That's all I'm saying. If you have to talk about it, talk to me. Nobody else. Can you do that, Ronon?"

Ronon stared at him. Lorne looked so earnest, almost in pain with sincerity. Ronon could smell fresh bread from the mess, and something roasting. He really wanted a bite, so he said, "Yeah. Got it. No talking about McKay and Sheppard fucking except to you." As he'd expected, Lorne turned pink but nodded. "Cool," Ronon said, using one of Sheppard's favorite words, and left Lorne at the door.

McKay came into the mess as Ronon was finishing. He sat and watched McKay grab bread and meat and gravy; he liked McKay's appetite. Sign of a man who had his priorities straight, Ronon's mother used to say about men with hearty appetites. McKay wrapped up his food, obviously returning with it to his work, so Ronon ditched his tray and followed him, catching up with him just outside the mess.

"McKay. We need to talk."

"Oh, no my friend, we certainly do not. Go away. Go kill, I don't know, some mice or catch some fish. Something else."

"No." He caught McKay and gently pushed him back against a wall, careful not to jostle his packet of food. "I talked to Sheppard yesterday. He's a fool."

"Well, on that we can agree."

"So are you. Whatever has happened is none of my business --"

"We can agree on that as well."

"None of my business, but what's going on now is. You're fucking things up. Stop it. Fix whatever is wrong."

"I'll tell you what's wrong --"

Ronon held up his hand and McKay, to his surprise, stopped talking. "I don't want to know. But fix it."

McKay looked sadly at him. He took a deep breath, and nodded. "I want to," he said softly. "I just don't know how."

Ronon bent to murmur directly into McKay's ear: "Fuck him. Take him to bed. He needs it, McKay, and he wants it from you."

"Jesus, but you have a one-track mind." He tried to push past Ronon, but he held onto McKay's shoulder. "That's not what's wrong."

"I've seen this, I keep telling you." Ronon hesitated, and then said, "I've been there. I know."

McKay looked even more miserable. "I can't," he said, and his voice was so full of defeat that Ronon let him go. He left without looking back or saying anything more.

"Then I will," Ronon muttered.

"Will what?" Carson said, and Ronon had been so deep in thought that he'd surprised him.

"Fix Sheppard and McKay."

Carson looked up at Ronon, hands in his coat pockets. "I'm not military," he finally said, starting to walk; Ronon fell into step with him. "And I'm certainly not American, so all that don't ask and don't tell rubbish has nothing to do with me. But I can say that it's profoundly affected men like the colonel. What you're asking might be impossible for him to admit even to himself, let alone for him to act on."

"He's stronger than that."

"Are any of us really stronger than our cultural heritage, Ronon? Are you?"

"I'm here, aren't I? Stuck in one place, following their stupid rules."

Carson nodded. "That you are, lad. You may be the exception that proves the rule. But what if you're wrong? What if something else is going on? They are from a different world, and they're each from different cultures on that world. Makes a difference, as you know."

Ronon shrugged; he knew. Still, Carson had a point. He was still having problems with some of the things people said and did in Atlantis, much less so than with Teyla and her folks. Maybe there was some kind of cultural confusion going on for him. "Huh," he finally said.

Carson nodded, and patted his arm. "There's a lad. To be honest, I think you might be right, and I'll help if I can. But let's give these bright men a chance to settle it themselves, whatever it might be. Well, back to work for me. Good luck to you, Ronon."

"Yeah." He watched as Carson stepped into a transporter. Ronon decided to let things go for now, see how the mission went before he pushed the issue any further. Carson was strange, but he was from the same world as McKay and Sheppard, so maybe he understood things Ronon couldn't.

What a populated world Earth must be, too, he thought as he prepped for the mission. So many cultures. Must come of not having the Wraith cull them. And maybe from the lack of a stargate. When things got too crowded or chaotic, most people just left. He couldn't imagine being stuck on one world, with nowhere to go. He and Teyla had talked about that once, when he was first learning about the others. She would hate it, too, though she'd been to Earth once. "It's a big world," was all she said, but he thought he knew what she'd meant. Big because they had never been cut down to size by the Wraith. They were a lucky people. Stupid, too, he thought, looking at McKay's awkward posture and Sheppard's tight face.

He would give anything, he thought, if he could have a partner the way they had each other, but they didn't even know it. Stupid people caught in a stupid culture. They step through the stargate and don't realize what it offers.

When they were in the little jumpers that Sheppard loved so much, Ronon watched McKay's face as Sheppard flew. He looked a little envious, Ronon thought, and a bit apprehensive. But McKay's face eased whenever he looked directly at Sheppard. Why didn't they know what they were to each other?

He looked at Teyla, who was watching him. He raised an eyebrow and she smiled slightly, then leaned forward. "What are you thinking?" she asked him, so softly he could barely make out her words.

He gestured toward the other two. "What's wrong with them."

She smiled, a little sadly. "They have always had that -- tension between them."

"Huh."

"Although I admit, it seems stronger lately."

"Tension. That what you call it."

"Ronon, we must respect their culture as they respect ours."

He sat up, unwilling to hear the same lecture from her. "Makes no sense," he muttered, and looked forward again.

"Almost there, boys and girls," Sheppard called out. "Teyla, we'll follow your lead since you've traded here before."

"It has been many years," she said. "We must remain wary."

"Wary, yes, that's comforting," McKay said. Ronon caught his eye and nodded. That was the kind of complaining that he liked to hear from McKay, not that ugly shouting at Sheppard.

They fell into their usual roles. Ronon wondered if he was especially sensitive to group dynamics after being alone for so many years, and then wondered at his use of the term _group dynamics_ ; he knew that came from Kate. He kept his eyes on the strangers Teyla was greeting in her quiet Athosian way: a deep bow, and a forehead press with a much older woman.

"I remember you, child," the woman said. "You came with your father. What has happened to you?"

"The Wraith came," she said, bowing again. "These people helped us escape to another world, where we hide and fight."

"Fight," the old woman said, and smiled. "I was a fighter once, too."

Teyla turned to the team. "This is Andryn," she said. "An old friend, and valiant warrior."

"No longer," Andryn said, bowing to them. Ronon bowed in return. "Who is this handsome boy?" she asked. "Satedan, by the hair and trinkets."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "Ronon, now of Atlantis."

"Atlantis!" she said, and looked at McKay and Sheppard. "Atlantis has returned?"

"No, Andryn," Teyal explained. "The Atlantians are gone forever. But these people live in their city and have vowed to help us."

"New Atlantians, then," Andryn said. McKay and Sheppard looked at each other, and then bowed to her. "Handsome, if a bit pale. Do you not get out of the city much?"

Ronon hid his laugh, as both Atlantians tried to answer at once. Teyla interrupted. "We wish to trade, Andryn. We offer medical supplies and alliance, even a place to live should some seek greater safety. But we need food, especially seeds and roots to grow, and fabric for clothing."

"Perhaps we can help. This has been a good year for us and our storerooms are full. Our doctors have lost many skills in the years since we fled our home world."

Teyla nodded, pursing her lips, and Ronon understood. The gate always offered escape, but it came with a terrible price.

"We will do what we can," Sheppard said. "We have many doctors; maybe some could train your people, and learn from them."

"Learn from them?" McKay started, but Sheppard elbowed him.

"Ah, I see," Andryn said. "Difficult times for us all. Come. The village is not far. This is not my decision alone to make." Teyla took her arm and helped her down the path through the trees; through the branches, Ronon could see lights gleaming as evening came on. The path was crowded with people, most smiling and looking curiously at them. He waited for McKay and Sheppard to pass, then followed closely.

No one seemed interested in threatening them; they asked for stories of other worlds, include Sateda, and especially of the new people living in Atlantis. "It is beautiful," McKay told a group of children who had gathered near him. "No kids allowed, though."

"Rodney. It's not that they're not allowed," Sheppard explained to them. "Just none came with us."

"How can you be a city with no children?" a young woman called out. She was holding a baby on her shoulder, and a toddler clutched her knee, drooling and gnawing his fist.

"Someday there will be children," Ronon said. "The city is made for them."

Everyone nodded, though McKay and Sheppard looked at him in surprise. "Never took you for a children kind of guy," McKay said, even as little boy crept near him, holding up a toy. McKay looked at it, then said, "Yes, yes, you broke it; I can see that." He pulled out a little tool with many blades and did something to it. "Here. Now go away and play with it. Be careful. Don't poke your eye out."

"Rodney," Sheppard said. McKay rolled his eyes and looked impatient, but Sheppard smiled at him. "You big softie."

"Shut up. Go away and play with it, too."

Ronon laughed to himself. Maybe all they'd needed was to get off world, away from the stupid rules they'd brought with them from their Earth.

That was a false hope, though, he discovered as the evening drew on. They'd started snapping at each other again. Teyla had frowned at him, so he'd herded them away from the village where they wouldn't be heard. "Don't fuck up the trading," he told them. "Go back to the jumper and fight there."

"Ronon, I need to stay with Teyla --" Sheppard began, but Ronon had already turned away.

"I'll stay. You go. And fuck," he called over his shoulder.

"What? Why does he keep saying that?" he heard McKay squawk before he rejoined Teyla.

She took over an hour to negotiate: seeds for some kind of grain that her people had had success with on their home world, and three small saplings of a fruit tree that Andryn insisted was very good. She also brought back samples of fabric to see if they could be used in Atlantis, and left with a promise to return very soon with a doctor.

Sheppard was standing guard outside the jumper when they returned. "Where's McKay?" Ronon asked him.

He was wearing his sunglasses, as if that hid anything from Ronon. "Inside. How'd it go, Teyla?"

"Very well. We promised to return with a doctor and a list of the fabrics we find acceptable."

"Excellent work. Carson can assign someone to come back with you. I'll come, too. Ronon?"

"No need for me to be here."

"All-righty, then. Let's get back and report to Weir, get the process started."

McKay was sulking in the back, poking at his laptop. He didn't look up when the others boarded the jumper, nor did he speak. He just bristled, like an animal fending off potential enemies. By the time they'd returned to Atlantis, Ronon had decided that Carson had been wrong. He knew what he had to do.

Two days later, Sheppard, Teyla, Carson, and a doctor named Silvia Kipson returned with supplies to barter, and an offer to work with the healers Andryn had mentioned. Ronon watched the jumper leave through the gate; when the surface collapsed and only the interior of the gateroom could be seen, he headed to the lab McKay usually worked in.

He wasn't there, but Zelenka was. "Ah, he is in a state," Zelenka told Ronon, shaking his head. "I could throttle him. How can such a brilliant man be such a child? He is so unhappy, Ronon. So unhappy."

"Where'd he go?"

Zelenka shrugged. "He did not say. There is a balcony he likes, not far from his quarters. Or he might be in the new room Simpson found when she got lost last week; you know the one? Close to the jumper bay, but underneath?" Ronon nodded. "Find him, Ronon. Make him see that he's hurting more than himself, yes?"

"Huh," Ronon said, and left.

"Good luck!" Zelenka called.

McKay was on the balcony; he'd dragged a chair out with him and had his feet up on the railing while he worked on his ever-present laptop. Ronon watched him for a while; he was unaware of Ronon's presence. Every now and then he'd look out at sea and sigh. Ronon considered his options, which were few, he thought. He took a deep breath, then reached over McKay's shoulder to seize his hands.

"Oh my Christ, you nearly gave me a heart attack," McKay said, but he didn't struggle. Ronon carefully took the laptop from him and set it on the floor behind him, keeping one hand wrapped around McKay's wrist. "What? What?" Ronon pulled him up, helping him stand, then pulled him close. McKay's eyes widened comically. "Ronon?"

Ronon kissed him. At first, McKay struggled in his arms, twisting his face away, but Ronon held him gently, and McKay soon calmed, letting Ronon kiss him, and then kissing him back, making little gasping noises of pleasure as he did. Ronon stroked his back, then cupped his ass and pushed against him; he could feel McKay's hard-on against his thigh. "God," McKay groaned, "why? Don't stop."

Ronon had no intention of stopping. He straightened, bringing McKay up to his toes, and leaned back, so he was bearing almost all of McKay's weight, kissing his neck and face. "I'm gonna fuck you now," he murmured.

He turned McKay slightly, and began to undo his buttons and zips. Pushing at his clothing, he took firm hold of McKay's cock and pulled; McKay squeaked in surprise, then covered Ronon's hand with his own and squeezed. "Okay," he said breathlessly. Ronon smiled. He jerked McKay's trousers and pants further down and turned him so he faced seaward. "Here? What do I do?" Ronon didn't answer. He pulled the little pot of slick from a pocket, slid the top partially open, and dipped a finger in the stuff, warm from being carried next to his body. He slicked himself up and then rubbed some into McKay, who was making senseless noises of pleasure. "Why? Yes, Christ, oh my God, Ronon, why, oh, oh?"

None of that mattered to Ronon. He concentrated on what he was doing: making McKay feel good, calm down, shut up. He tilted McKay forward, pulling him up onto his toes; he grabbed the railing and looked over his shoulder at Ronon. "I've never actually -- don't push me off the fucking balcony, okay -- _oh my fucking God_." He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip as Ronon eased himself into McKay's body.

"Relax," Ronon murmured, draping on arm around McKay, holding him up and back. "Let me do all the work. Let everything else just go."

"Love. Talk. From. You --oh, God," McKay said, then took a deep breath and relaxed. Ronon began to fuck him, slowly, deeply. They were both gasping for air and sweating heavily; Ronon rested his forehead on McKay's shoulder. A wind came up, gusting in their faces, smelling sweetly of the ocean around them. Waves crashed, and Ronon seized Rodney more fiercely and came. When he'd caught his breath, he jerked McKay off, twisting his head back so Ronon could kiss him through his orgasm.

McKay was silent while Ronon cleaned him and straightened his clothes. He stared out over the water, letting Ronon move him this way and that. Only when Ronon turned him back to face the city did he speak. "Why?"

"You needed it. I needed it." He kissed McKay again, pleased when McKay reached up to hold Ronon, when he kissed back, when he rested his body against Ronon's.

"Guess I did," he finally said. "I never -- no one ever -- " He sighed, looking sadly at Ronon. "I have wondered. Sometimes. At night."

"Come back, McKay. You've been away too long."

McKay began to gather himself, withdrawing from Ronon, he could tell. "I don't know what you mean. Where else would I be?"

Ronon kissed him. "Liar," he said, staring into McKay's eyes.

"Yes, well, I mean, _metaphorically_ , of course. I guess." He exhaled noisily. "I take your meaning, and I will consider it," he finally said.

"You consider too much," Ronon told him, and settled him back in his chair. "Work." He sat on the balcony floor and leaned against the railing, looking up at McKay, who smiled his sad crooked smile at him.

"My old dog Trey," he said, affection thick in his voice. Ronon didn't know what he meant, but McKay was calm for a change; that was good. "Also: ow. My butt hurts."

Ronon smiled, showing a lot of his teeth.

When the air cooled, they walked back to the more inhabited parts of the city, Ronon not really paying attention to McKay's description about what he'd been working on but simply taking pleasure in the constant noise McKay made. When they reached the big lab, Ronon put his hand on McKay's wrist again; both of them stared down at it. "You know what you need to do," he said quietly. He gently shook McKay. "I watch you. I'll always watch you."

"I know you do," McKay said, just as quietly. Ronon rested his other hand against McKay's face just for a heartbeat, then left. He felt McKay's gaze on him until he'd turned the corner. It was time he usually met Teyla for a work-out, but she was in Andryn's village with Sheppard and Carson. He decided to go to the weight room instead.

He spent the next day near McKay, shepherding him to his meals, to the various labs he spent time in, and back to the balcony, though they didn't fuck again. McKay was calmer with him near; he could see that. "What did you do?" Zelenka whispered to him while McKay fetched coffee. "Do it some more."

Ronon nodded, and patted Zelenka's back. He knew what to do next.

Late that evening, the team returned. Carson and Dr. Kipson talked excitedly over each other, trying to explain what they were planning for the future, while Sheppard stood back wearing his tired half-smile. Ronon caught his eye; Sheppard raised a finger in greeting. Teyla looked tired but happy as well. Ronon waited for the briefing to end, then followed Sheppard back to his quarters. "You need something?" Sheppard asked him. Ronon leaned over and kissed him. "Hey, hey," Sheppard said, backing away. Ronon let him back into his room, then followed before the door slid shut. "Look, Ronon, I missed you, too, but --" Ronon interrupted him with another kiss. Gentle, not like he'd grabbed McKay. Sheppard was different and needed different handling; he needed something Ronon wasn't very good at and didn't have a word for, but recognized because sometimes he needed it, too.

As he'd known he would, Sheppard stopped retreating. He wasn't kissing Ronon back, but he wasn't fighting him. He stood quietly and let Ronon touch his body, kiss his mouth and face and throat, slip off his vest. When Ronon stood back, Sheppard's eyes were half closed, his face tight with some emotion that Ronon couldn't identify. Pain, maybe. Something not good.

Sheppard looked at Ronon. "I can't," he whispered.

"I know. I know." He petted Sheppard. "It's all right."

"It's just --"

"I _know_ ," Ronon told him. "But you will." Sheppard smiled at that. Ronon embraced him, brother to brother. "Come with me."

"Ronon, I'm tired; I just want a shower . . . " Ronon tugged at his arm, and Sheppard followed. "Where're we going?" He didn't answer, just kept Sheppard moving until they'd reached the door to McKay's quarters. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't need your help. You can't understand --"

McKay opened the door to them; Ronon watched as his eyes widened in surprise. Before he could start talking, he pushed Sheppard toward him, roughly, so that McKay had to reach out and grab him. "You know what to do," Ronon told him. "I'll be back in the morning."

"Listen, thanks, it's just I'm not, he's not, he doesn't look happy," McKay called after him.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Sheppard asked, but he was looking at McKay, not Ronon.

"Close the door," Ronon said, and the door slid shut just as McKay told Sheppard, "No, I don't think you do." Ronon stopped and watched the door. When it didn't slide open again, he took up a position across the hall. He sat cross-legged, getting comfortable. The rooms were soundproofed, he knew, but he didn't need to hear anything. If Sheppard stayed in that room, he would know all he needed to.

Sheppard stayed in the room. Ronon dozed a bit, guarding them, letting himself imagine what was happening between them. When morning came and Sheppard still hadn't left, he retreated to his own quarters, showering and drying his dreads thoroughly, then went to the mess hall for breakfast. Zelenka was there, talking excitedly to Elizabeth, so he sat with them, facing the door.

McKay and Sheppard came in together. No one noticed; they often ate together, Ronon had observed. But he saw instantly that something had changed. He smiled to himself.

"You look happy this morning," Elizabeth said. Ronon nodded and took a big bite of what Carson had taught him to call porridge. "Anything I should know about?"

"Ah," Zelenka said. "I think I see. You do good job, Ronon. Thank you."

"What?" Elizabeth asked him, but then McKay and Sheppard carried their trays past them. Elizabeth's eyes followed them, and then she smiled at Ronon. "I'm not going to ask," she said quietly, "and you are not to tell. But I also say good job."

"Yes, good job," Zelenka said again, still watching them. "I will ask, but not now. Maybe I buy you a drink later, eh, Ronon?"

"Okay," he said through his porridge. He didn't bother to turn around to watch McKay and Sheppard; seeing Elizabeth's and Zelenka's faces told him enough. Besides, the porridge was pretty good this morning.

 _Epilog_

"You big matchmaker, you," McKay told him later that day. Ronon was in the armory; McKay must have come looking for him.

"Matchmaker?"

"Someone who meddles in other people's business."

"Meddles?"

"Never mind. Just, you're crazy, you know? Too much time alone. You can't do that."

"I did."

"Yes, yes, and I'm grateful, thank you, did I say thank you yet? Because you were right, and I don't say that very often. But you were totally right. How's that for gracious?"

"Here," Ronon said, ignoring McKay's words and shoving the P 90 into his arms. "You need practice. Now's good." He slipped a pair of headphones onto McKay, enjoying the look of outrage on his face.

"Why do you do this?" McKay shouted at him, as if he were the one wearing headphones. "You make me crazy!" Ronon shrugged, turned him toward the targets, and goosed him. "Hey!" Ronon pointed.

McKay looked over his shoulder at Ronon, but he was smiling. Then he turned back to the target, settled himself, took a deep breath, and fired.

"Good work," Sheppard said. Ronon stepped back so he wasn't between them. "Glad to see you practicing, Rodney."

"Well, yes, of course. Might have to protect you someday."

"Hey, Ronon." Ronon nodded at Sheppard. "Ah, this is awkward."

"Yes, I was just thinking that. Awkward and weird."

"Really weird."

Ronon just looked at them, and crossed his arms. They glanced at each other, and Sheppard scratched his head. "Why?" he asked.

Ronon let the question hang for a moment, enjoying their discomfort. "Because you were too stupid to figure it out for yourselves," he finally said.

McKay puffed up, frowning at him, but Sheppard only nodded. "Yeah. Well, it wasn't the first solution that occurred to me. Killing Rodney was."

"Still an option."

"Hey!"

Sheppard glanced at McKay again. "Not right now," he said softly.

Ronon snorted. "Go fuck," he said. "I need to work some more with your weapons."

"Would you stop saying that?" McKay said, but he was pulling Sheppard toward the exit. "Just. Not in front of anybody else, okay? It's important."

"Whatever," Ronon said, but he was smiling when he turned back to his target. "Stupid," he muttered when he heard the door shut, and started firing again.


End file.
